Phoenix

by Steven Brust

  I congratulated him again and went past into my office, asking Melestav to send Kragar in. I forced myself to concentrate on the door, and so I noticed him when he entered. He took one look at me and said, "Who's the target?"

  "Toronnan."

  "Himself, eh? Is he after us, or are we after him? Not that it really matters."

  "Neither one, exactly. Kelly's bunch were arrested by his orders. I want to find out what he's after."

  "Sounds good. How?"

  "Buy someone in his organization, of course."

  "Oh, sure. Just like that."

  "If it was easy, Kragar, I'd do it myself."

  He blinked. "It's nice to hear you say that out loud after all this time of—"

  "Kill it."

  "Speaking of."

  "Hmmm?"

  "We going to shine him?"

  "I hope not. I've done too much of that. Any more, and people are going to start getting nervous—people I don't want to make nervous. Besides, I have my hands full with South Adrilankha right now; I don't need more territory."

  He nodded. "That's what I've been thinking. Okay, I'll see if anyone is for sale in his organization." He got up, stopped, and said, "Do you think he might have bought someone in ours?"

  "No way to know," I said. "It's a possibility. But I'm not going to start getting paranoid about it."

  "I guess not."

  "Oh, bring me a full set of weapons. It's about that time."

  "Okay. Back soon." He left, looking unusually thoughtful.

  A couple of hours later, as I was finishing up the process of changing weapons, Melestav walked into my office.

  "Message by courier, boss."

  "Oh, really? Someone's being formal. Did he let you chop for it?"

  "Yeah. Here it is."

  I inspected the single folded and sealed sheet and learned nothing interesting. I didn't recognize the seal, but I don't think there are more than three or four seals would recognize. I'm not certain I'd know my own. I opened it, read, and considered.

  "What is it, boss?"

  "What? Oh. The gentleman who invited me over a few days ago wants to see me again, but he's not in as much of a hurry."

  "Toronnan?"

  "That's the guy."

  "Think it's a setup?"

  "Hard to say. He wants me to name the time and place today or tomorrow. It would be hard to rig that."

  "Okay, Vlad," said Kragar. "Do you want me to up protection?"

  "Damn right."

  "Good. I'll take care of it. Where?"

  "I'm still thinking about it. I'll tell Melestav when I decide."

  He left to make arrangements.

  "What do you think it is, boss?"

  "I don't know. I hope it's not the beginning of another war; I don't think I could handle it. "

  "You and me both. "

  "Maybe I should get out of this business, Loiosh."

  "Maybe you should."

  He fell silent and I considered. Maybe I should get cutout of the whole thing. Killing people for money, earning a living from Teckla and fools, maybe I'd had enough. Maybe I could—

  Could what? What would I do? I tried to imagine myself living like Morrolan or Aliera, safe on a piece of land somewhere watching the Teckla work the fields—or not watching as the case may be. Sitting around, indulging whatever vague curiosities came my way. No, I couldn't see it. Perhaps my existence was pointless in any grand scheme of things, but it kept me entertained.

  Yes, but was that sufficient justification for all the things I had to do, just to stay alive and in business? Well, why did I feel the need to justify myself in the first place? In part, I guessed, because of Cawti. She'd been just where I knew I didn't want to be, idle and frustrated, and she'd handled it by getting involved with a bunch of crazies with a noble cause. What else? Well, there was my grandfather, whom I respected more than I respected anyone else. He knew what I did and, when I asked him, had given me his opinion on it. More fool me for asking.

  But this was silly. Perhaps, later, I could decide if I wanted to change the way I lived, but right now my wife was in prison and I had just stirred up a school of orca by oh-so-gently threatening the Organization representative in the Imperial Palace, someone who ought to be left alone if anyone should. No, the

  Organization wasn't about to let one lone Easterner get away with anything like that. I was going to have either figure out a way to pacify them or figure out a way to escape. Maybe I'd relocate to Green-aere and learn to drum.

  Or not.

  "Melestav."

  "Yeah, boss?"

  "Find out where Aibynn is playing tonight and send a courier to Toronnan. Tell him we'll meet him there at the eighth hour. "

  "Okay, boss."

  "And put the word out that we might get hit soon."

  "Again?"

  "I guess it's just one of those years."

  "I guess so, boss."

  Lesson Ten

  Making Friends II

  The Loquacious Madman is on Czigarel Street

  near Un-dauntra, in a district with very little Organization activity. I arrived two or three minutes early with Sticks and an enforcer we called Glowbug. Kragar had said he'd be there, too, but I didn't notice him. It is unlikely, however, that I would have noticed Sethra Lavode in that crowd. The festivities were already beginning. There were trails of cold fire traveling along all the walls; bouncing globes throughout the room, changing colors as they swirled; and ribbon trails hanging from the ceiling.

  The crowd was mostly Teckla, all decked out like the bouncing globes in reds and yellows and blues, and merchants and artisans proudly wearing whatever they worked in, and brazenly flaunting their lovers, but here and there you could see the masked aristocracy of the House of the Tiassa or the Lyorn, adding a gentle touch of light blue or brown, and inserting whatever particular flavor of loud troublemaking or quiet drunkenness pleased them the most.

  Which is not to say the place was crowded—yet. It's a big place, and things were just starting to get going. It was loud, but not deafening. Either a very good or a very strange time and place to have a business meeting.

  Toronnan arrived less than two minutes after I did, preceded (as was I, by the way) by a couple of toughs who checked the place over for any sign of this being a setup. It isn't easy to tell that sort of thing, even when there isn't a celebration going on, but it can be done. You have to look at everyone in the place, especially the waiters, and note how each one carries himself, where he is placed, and if he seems to be carrying any concealed weapons, or looks familiar, or doesn't seem to fit in.

  I had done that a few times, and the one time it really had been a setup, for a guy named Welok, I had almost missed it that one of the cooks wasn't using his knife the way a real cook would—instead of gripping it between thumb and forefinger on the blade with the pommel resting on the heel of his hand, he was gripping the pommel like a knife-fighter. I mentioned this to Kragar, with whom I was working, who looked closely and realized that he knew the guy. The meeting was called off, and three months later I was hired by Welok to kill an enforcer named Kynn who worked for Rolaan—the man who'd called the meeting.

  But I digress. I hadn't set up anything and neither had Toronnan. Indeed—this was a very bad situation to kill someone in, because the large and unpredictable crowd is likely to surprise you, and assassins hate surprises. He sat facing me, his back to the door. I started to signal a waiter over, but he didn't let me. "This won't take that long," he said.

  I kept my face expressionless. It is a major break in protocol to set up a business dinner and not eat. I wasn't certain what it indicated, but it wasn't good. I settled back in the chair and said, "Go ahead, then."

  "This has gone up to the Council. You have powerful friends there, but I don't think they can help you this time."

  "I'm still listening."

  "We're sorry your wife got involved in this, but business is business."

  "I'm still listeni
ng."

  He nodded. "I was up before the Council today. They asked if you could be shined without a fight. I said not unless they could find Mario. That doesn't mean they aren't going to try, but you probably have a reprieve. Do you understand?"

  "Not quite. Keep talking."

  ' 'We just had a big mess between you and this Herth character, and before that you had an altercation with some teckla that ended up with the Empire stepping in, and in between was a big, bloody mess in the Hills between Be'er and Fyrnaan."

  "I heard about that. I wasn't involved."

  "That's not the point. The Organization has been calling way too much attention to itself and the Council is tired of it. That's the only thing that's keeping you alive."

  "I take it I've offended someone."

  "You've offended everyone, idiot. You don't go around threatening the Organization representative in the Imperial Palace. Can you understand that?"

  "Threaten? I?"

  "Don't play stupid, Whiskers. I'm telling you to lay off. I'm telling you—"

  "Why did you arrange to have those Easterners arrested?"

  "You don't ask me questions, Whiskers. I ask you questions, you answer them, then I tell you things and you do them. That is the nature of our relationship. Can you grasp that, or do I need to illustrate it?"

  "Why did you arrange to have those Easterners arrested?"

  A sneer began to appear on his face but he put it away. "Is there some reason I should answer you?"

  "I'll kill you if you don't."

  "You'd never make it out of here alive."

  "I know."

  He stared at me. At last he said, "You're lying."

  I shook my head. "No. I don't lie. I'm cultivating a reputation for honesty so I can blow it when something big comes along. This ain't it."

  He snorted. "Just how much bigger a thing do you want?"

  "Wait and see."

  His teeth worked inside his mouth. Then he said, "Orders came from the Council. I don't know who it was."

  "You could probably make a good guess if you put your mind to it."

  We matched stares, then he said, "My boss. Boralinoi."

  "Boralinoi," I repeated slowly. "That would make sense. My area is your area is his area, and I now own South Adrilankha, so he's responsible."

  "That's right. And if you think you can mess with him—"

  I shook my head. "I want my wife back, Lord Toronnan. That's what it all comes down to, okay? There's no way I'm going to let her rot in the Imperial Dungeons, so you'd better figure out a way to help me, or stay out of my way, or try your best to put me down, because I'm going to be moving."

  He stood up. "I'll remember that, Lord Taltos. I will remember it."

  After he was gone, I moved to the other side of the table, so I could watch the musicians, who were just setting up. It took me a while to find a waiter, but I finally succeeded and ordered pasta with peppers and sausage. He seemed surprised that I actually wanted to eat; I suppose most people were just drinking. And then when he started to leave, Kragar called him back and ordered one f the same, which puzzled him even more although he tried not to show it.

  "What happened?" he said.

  "I seem to have made another enemy."

  "Oh? Toronnan?"

  "No. The Jhereg."

  Kragar cocked his head to the side. "Tell me something, Vlad: Why do I keep sticking with you?"

  "I don't know. Maybe you aren't. Maybe you're setting up to knife me."

  "Don't start getting paranoid now."

  "Well, if you aren't setting up to knife me, maybe you should be. This would be the right time."

  He stared at me very hard, no sign of banter on his face. "You'd better give me the details," he said.

  I did so, starting with my interview with Soffta, up to the conversation with Toronnan. The food arrived in the middle of it and, as I was concluding, the musicians started up. I was surprised at how well the crowd quieted down, but I was pretty sure they'd make up for it later. I hoped to be gone by then.

  The food was edible, the wine quite dry but good. The singer was good. Aibynn stayed pretty much in the background so I didn't notice him too much, though I might have if I'd known anything about music. I did note the dreamy smile on his face, which reminded me of how my grandfather looked when in the middle of a spell. For all I know I look the same way.

  Eventually they stopped, and Aibynn came over and introduced his partner, a relatively short Tiassa named Thoddi. We discussed inanities for a while, then they played some more. Kragar said, "What's the plan?"

  "I think I'm going to have to find this Boralinoi."

  "That could be dangerous."

  "Probably. Find out where he works."

  "What? Now?"

  "Now. I'll wait here."

  "Look, Vlad, aside from the obvious stupidities of barging in to see this guy without setting things up, how do you know Toronnan hasn't just sent a team over here to shine you when you leave?"

  "Let him try," I said. "Just let him try."

  "Vlad-"

  "Do it. Find out where he is. I'll wait here."

  He sighed. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

  My enjoyment of the music was dampened just a little by a need to keep an eye on the door, but not too much, because there were Loiosh, Sticks, and Glowbug. Presently Kragar got hold of me again and told me where to find Boralinoi when he was working.

  "He isn't there now, Vlad. You'll have to wait until tomorrow. "

  "I guess."

  "Why don't you think the whole thing over, then ? Maybe you—"

  "Thanks, Kragar. I'll see you tomorrow. "

  The crowd was just making it impossible to listen to the music when they stopped, and announced that they were finished and someone else would be playing next, which surprised me. I threw an Imperial into the jar, paid for the food and drink, and walked back home with Aibynn. We didn't speak for a while, then I ventured, "You sounded pretty good."

  "Yeah," he said. "That was a good one. Did you notice those fake seventy-twos I was throwing into the seventeens?"

  "Uh, well, no, not really."

  He nodded. "They weren't really seventy-twos, because you have to punch the one, the six-seven-eight, the ten, and the sixteen-seventeen of every measure, but it kind of works if you pretend every third measure is . . ." He went on, with me nodding and making interested sounds. Sticks, who was in front, fell back a bit to listen and the two of them got into a discussion of arcane matters beyond the likes of me. I still wondered who Aibynn really was, and what he was doing here, and if he was going to assassinate the Empress.

  Not that I cared.

  "What do you care about, boss?" said Loiosh as we walked up the stairs to my flat.

  "Getting Cawti out of prison."

  "And then?"

  "Don't ask difficult questions, Loiosh. "

  I asked Sticks and Glowbug if they wanted some wine before they took off. Glowbug didn't, but Sticks knows the kind of wine I keep around the house, so he was right behind me when I went through the door.

  What impressed me the most, I think, was how quickly Toronnan had moved. It was, what, half an hour, maybe, since I'd left him. The assassin was waiting just inside the door of the flat, and neither Loiosh nor I had any inkling. But Sticks, as I said, was right behind me, and when the dagger came slicing toward the back of my neck, he acted, pushing me sideways and forward into the room. I rolled and came up in time to see Sticks holding his clubs, connecting with the guy's head, very hard. The guy went down. I felt a burn along my neck, touched my hand, and found blood. I hoped his blade hadn't been poisoned. I discovered I was trembling.

  "Good work," I told Sticks. His only answer was to slump to the floor. It was only then that I noticed the stiletto that had gone completely through his throat and out the back of his neck.

  Aibynn came into the room then and knelt next to Sticks, whose eyes were open and glassy. Loiosh landed on my shoulder and nuzzled my ear. I i
nspected the corpse of my enforcer and saw that his backbone had been neatly severed. What you call in the business a lucky shot.

  * * * *

  An hour or so later the bodies were gone, and Kragar was sitting in the living room with me while I gradually stopped trembling. "Right in my house, Kragar," I said for about the ninth time.

  "I know, boss," he said.

  "You don't do that."

  Aibynn was in his room, drumming, he said, to pull himself back together. Kragar said, "I know why they did, though."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Remember a few weeks ago? Didn't you go busting into someone's house to get information from him?"

  I took a very deep breath. "Yes," I said.

  "There you have it. You broke the rules, they broke the rules. That's how it works, Vlad."

  "I should have known."

  "Yeah."

  Not more than a month before, Sticks had refused an offer for my head. His refusal had made him a target, and I'd saved his life, just as he'd saved mine before. And for what?

  "I don't think you should stay here, Vlad."

  "I'm not going to, Kragar. Thanks. I'm all right now."

  "I'll wait until you leave, if you don't mind."

  "Yeah, okay."

  I suggested to Aibynn that this might not be a safe place to stay tonight. He said, "No problem. I have a friend I can stay with."

  "Good. I'll see you sometime."

  Kragar escorted me down the stairs and left me when it looked safe.

  "Where are we going, boss?"

  "An inn I know, on the other side of town.

  "Why there?"

  "It's across the street from where Boralinoi works."

  "Ah. What about Toronnan? He was the one who—"

  "Fuck Toronnan. Fuck revenge. I'm getting Cawti back. "

  It was a good three-hour walk, but I think it did me good.

  I was up early the next morning, waiting just outside the inn where I'd spent the night. I stood in the shadow of the doorway, waiting. Rocza flew around looking harmless and terrorizing all the local, city-bred jhereg while Loiosh waited with me. I had six good hours of sleep inside of me, followed by three cups of klava and crumb-bread with goat cheese. A sharp, steady wind came up the hill from my left, smacking me in the face and giving rise to reflections on the passing away of the old and the unfathomable nature of the new.